Safasd
When I was a little kid, I was often teased for the things I liked. I enjoyed watching things like Sailor Moon, and I wasn't a big fan of sports. My father always resented me because of this, but nevertheless, he still tried his best to change me. I never slowed the slightest bit of interest in what he had to offer. All I wanted to do was play with my Gameboy Advance all day, but, he of course would not allow it. A few months into fourth grade, a new kid joined my class. Our teacher said that he was a bit of shy kid, but that we should try to make friends with him because it probably help him get out of his shell. But of course, no one cared, so Alan the new kid spent most of his days away from everyone else. A few months later, Alan told all of us that is birthday would be in a couple of weeks. "And?" A classmate of mine said. "Who the hell cares?" Alan forced a smile and took out a cheap paper bag with party invitations on them. He handed it to everyone while visibly shaking. "No one probably, but I'd appreciate it if you would come. Thank you." I think it's important to note here that kids are cruel, and I was one of those people who didn't care about anyone but himself. So as soon as I got home, I threw the card on the table and went upstairs to take a nap. I didn't want to go to his party, I could care less about him and his stupid birthday. The next thing I know, my dad is shaking me, trying to get me to wake up. After gaining consciousness, I notice that he has a huge grin on his face, but what he's carrying stops my heart. The invitation is in his hands, and I know exactly what this means. "Listen Jacob, I saw this on the table, why didn't you tell me about this? I'll drive you to the party all right?" "Uh, dad?" I stutter. "I don't really want to go to the party." "What?" He asks, visibly annoyed. "And why not? Look, it's even sports-themed, you could learn something from this kid. You're going, and that's final. Besides, you don't have anything better to do but sit on your fat ass all day watching those faggot-ass cartoons. You hear me? You're going." "Dad," I complain. "I don't want to go, please!" I feel a sharp pain on my left cheek, and after the surprise fades away, I realize that my dad has just slapped me. My dad was not an abusive man (well, not a physical abusive man for that matter, he was mentally abusive no doubt), so him hitting me was a big surprise. Tears run down my cheek and he gets close to me. "Listen to me you ungrateful bastard," he slowly whispers. "Why don't you act like a boy for once? You're ungrateful and you don't know when to listen to your parents. Don't you dare talk back to me on this, you will go to this boy's party, whether you like it or not. Talk back to me right now, I *dare* you." I stay silent, knowing full well what would happen if I speak out of turn again. On the day of the party, my dad doesn't speak to me, he doesn't even look me in the eye. He drops me off at the party, and before he drives away, he tells me to be respectful and to have fun. My father drives away, and I knock on the door, only for an obese man in a white sweatshirt open it. "What the fuck do you want?" I clear my throat and show him the party invitation. He takes a bite out of the pizza he's holding, and then walks to the couch behind him. I walk inside the house and I see Alan on the bottom of the staircase. The thing is, it looked like he had been crying. He had a red mark on his cheek, and I just assumed that his father hit him or something. He looked up at me and smiled. "Oh, are you here for the party?" I nodded and and he stood up. "Come on," he said, motioning for me to follow him. Alan led me to his room and then locked the door. He nervously smiles. "Not many people showed up, sorry about that." I nod. "How come you have red marks all over your face?" Alan frowns and begins to shout. "What's it to you? Why do you care you nosy fuck? What, are you going to tell everyone in school about how I have red marks on me? Huh? Is that it?" I begin to stutter, frightened at his sudden He frowns and starts shouting, "What's it to you? Why the hell do you care? Are you gonna fucking tell everyone about how I have red marks on me? Huh? You nosy fuck." After saying this, Alan starts sobbing, and drops to his knees. Now, at this point, I'm freaked out, and before I can say anything, he tells me, "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for shouting, I've just been having a bad day. I shouldn't shout at you, you're the only one who bothered to show up." "Well, actually, my father made me," I say, not realizing how much it could have hurt him. "Oh." Alan looks away, and his frown suddenly turns into a wide grin. "Hey, I know! Why don't we go to the attic?" "The attic? What's that?" I say with confusion. Alan looks around the room frantically, and then comes closer to me. "The attic is where my father sleeps. He never lets anyone go in there, but I found a hole on the right side where I can fit through it. I bet you can too. I never go in, since I'm afraid he might catch me, but he can't do anything if you're with me too." I stutter for a moment, but he interrupts me with a smile. "Come on, I promise nothing will happen. Please?" I sigh. "Sure." As we walk up the stairs, I notice Alan's father sleeping on the couch. I sigh a breath of relief, as I know if we get caught, I'll never be allowed into Alan's house again. Not that I want to go here again. But, still, I'll be horribly embarrassed. We walk up the stair, and flinch everytime the staircase creaks. Although Alan's father doesn't wake up, we're still afraid he might wake up at any time, so we try to be as quiet as possible. Alan guides me to the hole in the wall, and he goes in first. "Come on in," he whispers. I put my leg in first, then my torso, then my other leg, and soon, my whole body is engulfed in darkness. "It's really dark in here," Alan says. "Hold on." I hear some creaks and footsteps, only to see Alan open a light switch. At first, the whole attic is submerged in light, but Alan quickly dims it so that it's bright enough to see, but still dark enough so it doesn't look like anyone is in it. We go around the attic, inspecting it, but all we see is large closet and a small bed built for one person only. I try looking under the bed, only to get a face full of cobwebs. Alan goes to open the closet, only to find out that it is in fact, locked. As we look around, I notice one of the floorboards is loose. When I go to fix it, I realize that it's easily removable. I tell Alan, and he opens it, and finds a small gray key under the board. We assume that the key is for the closet. Alan takes the key, and sticks it into the key hole of the closet. Our expressions of curiosity is quickly turned into one of pure disgust as Alan opens the closet. Skeletons. Everywhere. Alan opens the closet, and bones, and skulls, and teeth and full-blown skeletons fall to the ground. We both believe they are fake skeletons, only for a corpse to fall down as well. The body looks as if someone bit it everywhere. It's throat is in chunks, and we assume that whoever did this viciously bit the man's throat into shackles. We both begin visibly shaking, and Alan releases a faint moan. I start stuttering and begin to walk backwards. We both look at the corpse and the skeletons, and Alan breaks the silence by saying, "Did... did my father do this?" I nod. "It's the only explanation." He starts sobbing, and buries his head in his hands. His loud sobs make me run to him and push him a little. He looks up, and I plunge my hand onto his mouth. "Shut. Up. I'm just as scared as you, but if your father wakes up and realizes that we're in here, we'll turn just like these guys," I say pointing to the skeleton and corpse. "Too late," a voice says behind me.